A/N: Greetings once more, readers! Here's what you've all been waiting for (maybe)...drumroll...an entire chapter dedicated to that bitterly honest, faithful man; the ever present yet oft overlooked cameraman. Yes, ladies and gentlemen. It's Joe's very own chapter! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Joe is mine. Kathleen is mine. That's...about it.
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Chapter 10: Why La Push Sucks
It was hour 5 of editing interview footage when I came to the realization that La Push sucks.
I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes tiredly. Of course, I had suspected that this reservation was less than wonderful. One, apparently no one had heard of Wi-Fi, let alone DSL.
Nope. Apparently modems still did exist.
That had been interesting, attaching the outdated machine to my baby: a brand new, top of the line MacBook Pro, fully decked out with the latest audio, visual, web, and photo editing software. I had to take a picture; I wasn't sure if Kathleen would get the joke.
For some reason, she actually liked it here.
Anyway.
The second hint had been the fact that in the week that we've been here, I've only seen the sun once. I looked out the window. Green. Oppressive green, if such a typically peaceful colour could be oppressive. The perpetual drizzle had built up into a torrential storm in the last five minutes, saturating the green even further. Wonderful.
I tried to crack my back. Unsuccessful. Now, I had had my share of dorm beds that were more glorified cots, worn down motel beds with questionable histories, and many, many uncomfortable nights crashing in the sagging seats of the VW Bus. However, the Blacks' ancient couch made me consider moving back into the Bus. At least then I could finally have the semi bed-like back seat; Kathleen always claimed it first and my stifled gentleman tendencies wouldn't let me steal it from her.
The Blacks gave Kathleen a bed. Not that I'm bitter.
Reasons three and four as to La Push's suckiness.
Currently, she was out with Jacob picking up the parts he had ordered earlier in the week. I hoped that meant he was nearly done fixing the beast and that we'd be on our way. The work on the Bus had us completely off schedule and we were running out of places to photograph and people to interview. Andrea would only take so many excuses to our delays.
On the bright side, Jacob had started to open up lately. It turned out that he was a veritable encyclopedia on the shapeshifter parts of Quileute legend. In the past week, we now had several pages and files of information on Taha Aki, Utlapa, some kind of evil spirit warrior, The Great Wolf, and Kaheleha. However, I got the feeling that these stories were slightly forbidden to tell. Jacob was always careful to make sure we were alone and that we swore not to tell anyone outside the house that we knew this information. It was only a matter of time before he insisted that we don't use any of this in print. I was hoping he wouldn't; this was great stuff. Like An American Werewolf in London or Wolf or any other movie with werewolves I had seen.
A particularly nasty clap of thunder made me jump. The door swung open, partially from the gust of wind but mainly from Jacob holding said door for a dripping Kathleen.
"Did you two get everything you needed?" I asked, returning to editing.
"Very nearly. I got you a present," Kathleen shook a newspaper in my face. I grabbed at it; anything for a connection to the real world. My heart fell slightly. It was only the local paper.
"You couldn't spring for the Times?" I asked, unfolding the front page.
"Hey, at least I thought of you. Now, shove over so I can check my email." I relinquished the computer. She clicked around a few times. "Nyerrr," she groaned, "I've got psychology work. Nessa's emailing it to me." She hit the laptop angrily. "How will memorizing learning behaviours help me in journalism?"
I shrugged, not bothering to look at her. So dramatic. "Hmm, a guy's gone missing in Port Angeles."
"Eh?" Kathleen didn't look up from the computer. Jacob was rummaging through the plastic bags I guessed contained the various parts for the Bus.
"Yeah. He's been gone for three days." I flipped the page, moving on. Going to school in Seattle during the serial killer drama a few years ago made me disregard any paranoid missing persons report. Especially those in which the 'victim' was gone for less than a week.
Kathleen, however, was slightly more interested. She tugged the front page out of my hands. "Huh. Apparently this reporter thinks there's some connection between the Seattle killings and this." She pushed the paper away and scoffed. "Right. Cause every missing person immediately means some black hearted psycho murdered them in cold blood."
I snorted; Kathleen had a strong, almost irrational distaste for media bias, causing her to abstain from reading or watching the majority of news sources for about 10 years now.
Jacob picked up the paper and scanned it quickly. He dropped it and went into the kitchen. I vaguely heard him dial a phone and talk into it in a hurried whisper.
"Weird," I muttered.
"Yeah," Kathleen said, returned to the computer.
Jacob came back in. "Where's Dad?" he said to neither one of us in particular.
"Er, someone named Charlie came by earlier. I think they went fishing," I responded, continuing with my paper.
"In this weather?"
"Well, in their defense, the morning's sun fooled us too." Jacob winked at Kathleen, who was shaking out her still damp hair. Somehow, Jacob was already perfectly dry. I frowned at him; there was something off about that boy.
Lightning flashed and the door slammed open again. A tall mustached man pushed Billy inside, pausing to wipe his feet free of mud before coming in and closing the door. His jacket was emblazoned with an official looking police seal and a badge that read 'C. Swan.'
"Hey Dad." Jacob sounded almost relieved. He froze at the sight of the other man. "Chief Swan."
The police chief straightened. "Hello, Jacob." He sounded warm, but there was still some tension between the two.
"Did you get all the parts you needed?" Billy asked, wheeling himself further in and placing the fishing poles in the corner.
"There's a belt that's taking a few extra days to come in, but other than that, yeah." Jacob smiled. "Catch anything before getting rained out?"
"A couple." Chief Swan held up a string of five fish. "Descaled and gutted. Billy told me there's someone here who's been more than handy in the kitchen?"
"I'm good at faking it and the Blacks' are too nice to tell me it's mediocre," Kathleen smiled shyly. "I'm Kathleen Harken. That's Joe Coren." She pointed to me. I waved. "We're in town to do some research for travel documentation. Road books, commercials, tourist info, that sort of thing."
"Interesting. Well I don't know how much you'll find this way. We're a rather small town. We keep to ourselves."
"Well, we're covering everything, so…" I said, finally setting down the paper. Nothing exciting. I'd have to go hunt down a copy of the Times later. Chief Swan motioned for the paper. I gave it to him and moved into the kitchen. Maybe he'd find it more interesting than I.
Kathleen was filleting the fish in the kitchen. She turned with the knife, nearly stabbing Jacob who was hovering around behind her. He yelled and grabbed his stomach.
"Jacob!" she cried. She dropped the knife with a clatter and ran to him. "Oh my God, are you okay? Are you bleeding? Let me see." She pried at his hands, trying to see the wound.
He groaned dramatically, leaning backwards onto the counter. Kathleen moved closer, still pleading for him to let her help. Suddenly, his face split into a grin. He moved his hands. There was no cut, no blood; he was fine.
"You should have seen your face," he chuckled. Kathleen narrowed her eyes and went back to the fish.
"You ass. See if I feed your fat face tonight," she grumbled. Jacob came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.
"Aww, come on," he whined. "I'm not fat."
"You're a pig." She elbowed him in the stomach. He laughed. "I know that didn't hurt you, but I wish it did," she snapped.
"Shall I pretend? Oh God!" He grabbed his stomach again, wheeling around. "I'm hit! You got me! Bluuuhhh…" He stumbled and fell against the counter, smiling up at her. She tried to stifle a giggle, but it snuck through.
God, it's shameless they way they flirt.
"Did you see this missing person report?" Chief Swan called from the living room.
"No." Billy rolled himself over. "There's another one?"
"Port Angeles." He handed the paper to Billy. He read it and looked at his son.
"Jacob, did you read this?"
Jacob straightened, suddenly completely serious. He nodded gravely.
"What's the big deal?" I asked as I absently stirred the cornmeal-based batter Kathleen had already made up. "It's a missing person. It's not a murder. Seattle had tons of missing person reports. They…usually turned up."
"True," Chief Swan said, "but we found a body today in the forest a few miles away from here. Description roughly matches the missing person. The family's coming by tomorrow morning to verify it."
The house went silent. Okay, maybe it wasn't as blasé as I had originally thought.
"So it could be the same serial killer from Seattle?" Billy asked.
"No, I'm…pretty sure that guy was caught." Jacob was looking pointedly at Billy.
"A copycat?"
Jacob and Billy looked at Kathleen briefly before meeting each other's eyes again. I got the feeling they were having a conversation above but related to the spoken one. It was like they had some high speed, telepathic connection between them.
"Could be. Anyway, if the ID's positive, it'll be in the papers within a few days." Chief Swan said, flipping the page of the paper.
"Where was the body found?" Jacob asked.
"Close to Rialto Beach, I believe. Body was completely drained of blood, but the only wounds we could find were small and relatively clean. So was the site. All we can think is that the girl was killed elsewhere then dragged out here by some animal."
"Hmm," Billy considered. "Does anyone else know?"
Chief Swan shook his head. "We're trying to keep it relatively quiet."
"I told Sam when I read it," Jacob admitted. The chief nodded.
"That's fine. Sam's a good kid."
Kathleen slipped the fish into the batter and into the pan, where it sizzled deliciously. "Chief Swan, are you staying for dinner?"
"If you'll have me, I'd appreciate it. My house has become more and more quiet now that Bella went off and married that Cullen boy."
I saw Jacob freeze slightly.
"You have a daughter?"
"Yeah. A little younger than you, but older than Jacob. They fell in love in high school and got married soon after graduation." Chief Swan sounded a little guarded. Something made me think he didn't approve of his daughter's husband very much. Or maybe it was how young they got married.
"That's sweet," Kathleen smiled vaguely as she nudged the fish around. "Has she visited recently?"
"Not for a long while. I believe they moved further up north. She and him were thinking of going to college in Alaska. The rest of the family is gone too." Chief Swan looked at Kathleen with a smile. "You know, you kind of remind me of her."
Jacob huffed sharply, his face contorting into a snarl. He pushed past me and stormed upstairs. Chief Swan watched him go, confused.
"Was it something I said?"
"He's been a little weird lately," Billy said.
"I just meant they look a little similar and both were really good in the kitchen. Should I go apologize?"
"Don't worry about it. Here, the game's about to come on. Let's watch it while the fish finishes up. Joe, care to join us?"
"No, thanks. I'm not much of a sports guy."
Chief Swan rolled Billy over to the living room. Within minutes, the two were engrossed in basketball. I leaned across the counter, stealing a couple lemon slices and dodging Kathleen's hand slap.
"So Jacob has been acting a little weird lately…"
"Yeah. He goes from cheeky to psycho to completely cold and absent to constantly there." She fished another lemon out of the fridge and cut it into wedges. "Don't eat these."
"Yes ma'am." I saluted her. "Are you two officially dating yet?" She glared at me. Apparently not. "Well he is being painfully obvious on how much he likes you."
"I know." She flipped the fish pieces in the pan. "But…I don't know. He gets close then runs off. I know he's keeping something from me. Quil told me he wants to tell me but he can't. I just…" she trailed off then sighed heavily.
"You know, I don't miss high school drama and teenage romances at all." I grinned, dodging the batter spoon she chucked at me. "You're cleaning that up."
"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, picking up a sponge. "I just…" Her voice lowered as her eyes flicked to the living room. "I know I've only known him for a little over a week, but he's coming on so strong. And it's like we have some sort of…connection. I feel like I've know him forever, but I can't shake the feeling that he's keeping something from me. Something big and…personal. And besides…" She bent down and scrubbed the bit of floor where the spoon had landed. "We're at completely different parts in our lives. I'm 22 and he's 18. I'm graduating college and he's graduating high school. I'm looking for the real deal and…well, I don't know what he's looking for because – "
"Because he's keeping a secret?" I finished. She nodded and placed the sponge and spoon in the sink. "Well, you know I'm not the biggest Jacob fan."
"You're not the biggest La Push fan," she corrected with a smile, checking on the fish.
"Very, very true. Honestly, who can stand this much rain and green and the perpetual mud? And I thought Seattle was bad." She cracked a smile. Good. "But I'd say talk to him."
"I've tried. Believe me I've tried. But anytime I ask him about it, he deflects. Course it has resulted in numerous interesting stories…"
"Ooh, yeah the werewolves." I made claws and made some stupid growling noise. She laughed quietly.
"Right. But he refuses to give me a straight answer. And what's more is he won't even try to explain why he won't tell me." She took the fish out and placed the pieces on paper towels.
"That's annoying." I went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of malt vinegar and carried it to the table. Kathleen followed with the bowel of lemon slices and the fish. "I'd still talk to him. Keep bugging him. He seems like he'd do anything for you. He's got that…puppy dog, clingy, dependent thing going for you. It's really cute…in a rip your hair out, annoying sort of way."
She smiled and hugged me briefly. "Thanks Joe."
"No problem. Now will you email Nessa back and tell her that I love her and want to sleep with her desperately?"
She smacked my shoulder. "You've told her that to her face numerous times. What makes you think one more is going to do the trick?"
"Eighty-fifth time's the charm."
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A/N: Oh Joe. I do love you.
I have officially outlined this ENTIRE fic and it's looking pretty sweet. It'll be 25 chapters plus a 2 part epilogue. That is, if the characters don't intervene with their own ideas with how the story should go. That's how Joe got his chapter and it derailed me from my original plan by 3 chapters. However, I like where Joe took me. So Joe still rocks.
As always, kindly read and review. Every time I get a review, I get so pumped and inspired that I write like a half of a chapter. You do the math...;D